“Well, sir, she passed the house about nine o’clock, walking quickly; and took just one glance in at your window, but did not stop. She came back in half an hour, and stood on the opposite side of the way, and then passed on. I hid in a court, where she couldn’t see me. By-and-by she comes back, on your side the way this time, gliding like a cat, and she crouched and curled round the angle of the house, and took a good look at you. Then she went slowly away, and I passed her. She was crying bitterly, poor girl! I never lost sight of her, and she led me a dance, I can tell you. I’ll take you to the place; but you had better let me disguise you; for I can see she is very timid, and would fly away in a moment if she knew she was detected.”
Little acquiesced, and Ransome disguised him in a beard and a loose set of clothes, and a billy-cock hat, and said that would do, as long as he kept at a prudent distance from the lady’s eye. They then took a cab and drove out of Hillsborough. When they had proceeded about two miles up the valley, Ransome stopped the cab, and directed the driver to wait for them.
He then walked on, and soon came to a row of houses, in two blocks of four houses each.
The last house of the first block had a bill in the window, “To be let furnished.”
He then knocked at the door, and a woman in charge of the house opened it.
“I am the chief-constable of Hillsborough; and this is my friend Mr. Park; he is looking out for a furnished house. Can he see this one?”
The woman said, “Certainly, gentlemen,” and showed them over the house.
Ransome opened the second-story window, and looked out on the back garden.
“Ah,” said he, “these houses have nice long gardens in the rear, where one can walk and be private.”
He then nudged Henry, and asked the woman who lived in the first house of the next block—“the house that garden belongs to?”
“Why, the bill was in the window the other day; but it is just took. She is a kind of a nun, I suppose: keeps no servant: only a girl comes in and does for her, and goes home at night. I saw her yesterday, walking in the garden there. She seems rather young to be all alone like that; but perhaps there’s some more of ’em coming. They sort o’ cattle mostly goes in bands.”
Henry asked what was the rent of the house. The woman did not know, but told him the proprietor lived a few doors off. “I shall take this house,” said Little. “I think you are right,” observed Ransome: “it will just answer your purpose.” They went together, and took the house directly; and Henry, by advice of Ransome, engaged a woman to come into the house in the morning, and go away at dusk. Ransome also advised him to make arrangements for watching Grace’s garden unseen. “That will be a great comfort to you,” said he: “I know by experience. Above all things,” said this sagacious officer, “don’t you let her know she is discovered. Remember this: when she wants you to know she is here, she’ll be sure to let you know. At present she is here on the sly: so if you thwart her, she’ll be off again, as sure as fate.”